


what is love? baby don't hurt me

by xylomylo



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, F/F, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 06:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14158635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylomylo/pseuds/xylomylo
Summary: "if i asked, would you fuck me?"there it is. momo forces herself to inhale, because she's sure she'd stopped breathing. fucking her best friend? her soulmate, the one girl she'd do anything for, the one girl she might actually be in love with - how could she say no?





	what is love? baby don't hurt me

**Author's Note:**

> someone get this damn song out of my head

the first time it happens, momo is drunk. 

 

she remembers drinking. a lot. it was the last day of their break before they would begin preparations for the next comeback, and of course they weren't going to let it go to waste. nayeon busted out her secret stash of soju, jeongyeon ordered pizza, and momo remembers going straight for the alcohol. drink to get drunk, yo. there was no time to waste, especially when you have your schedule planned out for the next two years - free time can  _never_  be wasted. 

 

then there's sana, who won't stop touching her. who hasn't stopped touching her, since they sat down. they're huddled in blankets in the living room, laughing over something she can't remember, because all she can focus on is the girl lying across her lap. 

 

at this point, it's to no one's surprise: sana loves skinship. hugs, hand holding - they've pretty much done it all, given the amount of time they've spent together. it might be the alcohol, or sana's ridiculously straight collarbones showing through her skimpy camisole, but something feels different today. she feels the rush of blood in her ears. sana is warm. soft. she is no stranger to sana's body, but momo can't seem to tear her eyes away from sana; the way the light hits her cheekbones - 

 

someone laughs. momo thinks it's sana, because she's suddenly sitting up. reaches for the bottle of soju on the table. the body heat is gone, and momo frowns. the room becomes fuzzy at the edges. 

 

but then sana is back, facing her this time, and too close for comfort. momo tries to count her eyelashes. they're long, and so, so pretty. then there's the rush of blood in her ears again, and suddenly she feels everything: sana's bare thighs on her lap, her fingers playing with the hem of her pajama top, and -

 

"momoring," sana whispers, small puffs of air tickling the shell of her ear. fuck.

 

 

 

/

 

 

they make out. they don't speak of it.

 

 

/

 

 

"you can't go around flirting with other people so easily," she pouts. 

"well, you can't fall for people that easily," sana counters, all up in her face. it's their usual mindless banter, but momo is surprised at how the truth slipped out so easily. she feels called out. feels a part of herself being drawn to sana's magnetic eyes yet again.

 

to be more specific: sana is attractive. sana is beautiful. sana is a ball of sunshine and love and how do you not love her? momo has spent the six years knowing sana thinking about that - only to realise that there isn't a possibility. you just do. it's painful, having to watch sana clinging to all the other members on stage, because that's just how she is. they're  _just friends_ , and that's that. then reminds herself that it's not her place. that the irrational jealousy has got to go. because sana is everything, and momo is nothing.

 

two hours pass quickly, and they end the vlive. momo calls dibs on the bathroom, and rushes to wipe off their stage make-up because fuck, it's already three am and they have another concert the very same night, and she's not about to be an unprofessional ass who doesn't do her best on every stage.

 

she's halfway through scrubbing her face when there are familiar arms around her waist. momo can't open her eyes, doesn't need to open them to know who it is, and she hates how her body is so attuned to every single thing about sana. like how sana's all pressed up against her, chapped lips dragging down her throat -

 

wait.

 

"s-sana?" it comes out muffled. momo hopes she doesn't die from eating face wash.  

 

"you were so hot today," sana giggles. "no, actually, you're always hot." her voice drops lower, and momo stills. because  _is this happening again?_  and she's not drunk enough to go through with it, but sana goes on, talking about her abs, talking so dirty momo feels the familiar blood rushing to her face.

 

"and you ask why i flirt with you so easily?"

 

there's a very warm, wet tongue tracing circles right below her earlobe and momo moans, because it's been awhile and she can't fucking lie, because having sana's mouth on her body was something she'd never thought would happen. again. the unspoken agreement not to speak about it might have been because sana didn't remember it, and momo was too much of a chicken to ask, but here, right now - this was happening. 

 

"i dream about you sometimes," sana slips a hand underneath momo's hoodie. "about how it would feel, touching you like this. only me." stops to suck hickey after hickey onto the skin on her neck, and momo is a squirming mess. she doesn't dare move, because what if this was just another of her stupid dreams?

 

momo wants to open her eyes so badly. it's one thing to hear and feel sana, and it's another thing to see sana through the mirror. she wants to see the same hunger reflected in her eyes. wants to commit that look to memory. debates on pulling away to wash out the soap, but then she feels her sweatpants being yanked down unceremoniously.

 

the cold air hits her hard, and momo feels herself clenching in anticipation. fuck. sana's body leaves.

 

but what she's waiting for doesn't come. her legs grow cold. instead, there's only silence, and some rustling of clothes - momo is confused. thinks that sana has probably left her, but then sana lets out a long sordid moan right next to her ear and -

 

"momoring, fuck." 

 

there is the unmistakable sound of sana panting, the shortness of her breath, and then some really wet squelching sounds that is  _definitely_ sana. momo is on high alert. she's sure she's as red as her hoodie, but sana doesn't let up. 

 

momo feels her own wetness pooling. 

 

"momoring," sana gasps, broken and desperate. momo thinks she's going to combust. her voice is high-pitched and whiny, and fuck, she sounds so needy. it wouldn't be too difficult to touch her with her own eyes closed, would it? 

 

"if i asked, would you fuck me?"

 

there it is. momo forces herself to inhale, because she's sure she'd stopped breathing. fucking her best friend? her soulmate, the one girl she'd do anything for, the one girl she  _might_  actually be in love with - how could she say no? 

 

but sana wasn't asking. sana never asks. so momo puts all her efforts into locking her legs and foam covered hands, so that she doesn't do anything stupid.

 

the moans get louder. momo settles for painting a picture in her head. sana on the floor, naked, the stupid shawl she'd wore earlier that made her look like a grandma lying on the floor. fingers between her legs, working a fast pace. head thrown back, mouth hanging open, letting out cry after cry of nothing but momo's name.  _momoring, please_ and  _fuck, momo_. it's a mixture of japanese and korean - a whole garbled mess that makes her head spin.

 

sana lets out a final scream. momo holds her breath. tenses even more when she hears rustling - sana is getting up. she's pretty sure her panties are ruined.

 

familiar hands slide up her bare legs, and momo clenches again, because maybe, maybe she'll finally be touched. there is a thumb pressing insistently at her clit through her panties, a slow and agonizing rub which gets her dripping, again, and momo gasps. she's pretty sure her eyes rolled back.

 

but then the hand disappears. her sweatpants are pulled up to her waist, and there's a burning kiss at the back of her neck. 

 

the bathroom is silent. momo has face wash in her mouth. she needs a cold shower.

 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

it escalates.

 

they're at the company, practicing one of their old routines - brushing up basics, the choreographer had said. the same guy who slammed momo's dancing skills when she'd first entered. there was nothing stopping sana from punching the guy - other than momo, of course, who took what he said to heart, and eventually wore down her confidence. 

 

sana  _hates_ the guy. momo doesn't like itwhen sana is angry. and so momo watches, in silence, as sana goes over the steps. there is an extra edge to every move, power that momo knows sana is capable of, but rarely shows. it's probably because of the anger, and momo is at a loss because sana is angry at the choreographer  _because_ of her.

 

she presses play. the bass is thudding, and her body remembers the steps easily - she watches sana. the other girl's brows are pinched together in something more than concentration, and she is off-beat. sana is never off-beat.  

 

"you're off-beat," momo says. it's a fact she knows sana herself knows. it doesn't change anything.

 

she catches sana's eyes through the mirror. it's a dark, stormy mess momo doesn't want to get caught in. truth be told, she'd never learnt how to deal with an angry sana - the other girl would just leave to get some air, and things would be fine. after.

 

"again," sana spits. momo plays the song again. they've been at this for hours, and for someone who prides herself in dancing, this wasn't what she'd expected. sana picks up choreography fast, so it was clear that the girl wasn't quite... there. 

 

the same thing happens. sana is half a beat early, and momo moves to shut the music off. 

 

"you okay?" she walks over. watches as sana crushes the empty plastic bottle in one hand. momo feels the anger radiating off her in waves. when it comes to sana, momo never knows what to say. without messing things up. 

 

"i'm fine, you know," momo tries. "he's always been like that. i'm fine, really." she comforts sana the only way she knows how to: by giving her a hug. they're both sweaty from the earlier exhaustion, but momo doesn't care the least bit because sana needs this. and this was partly her fault. 

 

she doesn't expect sana to push her away. the dark, stormy mess in her eyes only increases in intensity, and momo finds herself holding her breath. it's something she's been doing a lot, around sana. but before she can voice her confusion, her back's hitting the mirror and sana is kissing her.

 

it's rough. it's fast, hard, their noses bump, and momo parts her lips instinctively. sana tugs at her hair, hard enough to expose her neck, and momo's brain short-circuits. because this is happening again, and maybe, just maybe, sana needs to let off steam. and momo commits.

 

sana is intoxicating. sana bites at her neck, and momo is thankful they haven't made a comeback yet. all she can think about is sana, and her fingers sliding under her tank top. running along her sides. it's messy. momo wants to give back. so she presses her hips into sana because she can never get enough, and sana's moaning into her ear. wetly.

 

"i'm fine," momo repeats, and maybe it's the same want she sees reflected in sana's eyes, but she thinks the storm dies down. a little. there's something different now. it's a little softer. it's -

 

"he had  _no_ right to say that," sana grits her teeth. momo feels fingers sliding up her shorts. "no right. you're better than that, you know." the words are breathed into her ear and momo doesn't have time to process them - sana slides a finger in.

 

"i fucking hate him," sana continues. momo bites her lips in an attempt to stay quiet. grinds down onto sana's hand because fuck, they're in the company, and people might just walk in on them, anyone at all -

 

"he doesn't know how good you are," sana whispers. "how flexible you are. how well you move your hips." each sentence is punctuated with a thrust, and momo bucks her hips in response. the ball of heat in her belly coils painfully. there is nothing but sana's fingers, and sana's mouth, and sana's thumb circling her clit.

 

it's not long before her legs start to shake. sana is holding them up, pushing fingers into her relentlessly. momo feels it coming - the tightening of her abdomen, the way her thoughts jumble, the way her eyes snap shut of their own accord - she finds purchase in sana's shirt and settles for biting her shoulder when sana gives her a final rub.

 

"you're so much better than what he said," sana mumbles. 

 

in her post-orgasm haze, momo thinks something shifts. something she'd left buried underneath her rib cage, a long time ago. it's what makes her stick her hand down sana's sweatpants. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

"it's not healthy, momo." 

 

mina notices. momo isn't surprised.

 

"why not?" she challenges. mina is rational, mina is everything that she isn't, and everything she's been trying to avoid. because mina is insightful, and momo thinks she  _knows_. about that weird mess of feelings in her chest. 

 

"it's going to blow up in your face. i don't want to see any of you getting hurt." mina's voice is soft, but loaded. it cuts through her own cotton-candy vision, and her heart sinks because mina is right. mina is always right. 

 

momo forces a smile. "don't worry, minari." she pats the younger girl's head, and mina only raises her eyebrow. "we're going to be fine."

 

mina doesn't buy it. neither does momo.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

it blows up.

 

"i-i like you, noona." it comes out of nowhere. the boy is a stammering mess, blushing all the way to his neck. momo doesn't know what to say, because she's caught off-guard. and she tries,  _tries_ to be nice: momo has no idea what his name is. one of the trainees, maybe. 

 

"um," she starts. "thank you, but - i'm sorry." he looks like he's about to burst into tears, but all momo can think about is the stare burning into her back. she bows, hurrying back to the practice room, only to see sana scrolling through instagram. 

 

it's just the two of them (it's always been the two of them) today, hanging out in the company after practice, because sana asked for company, and who is momo to say no? 

 

"who's that?" sana asks, nonchalant as ever. the slight pinch in her eyebrows tells momo it's anything but. then she weighs her options, because no one ever writes about how to walk the fine line between trying to keep your best friend around, and wanting to keep her by your side. like, as something more. no one ever talks about that. 

 

"i don't know," momo says. it's the truth. after their debut, it's like she'd left behind the trainee life and lost track of everything, because all she focused on was moving forward. with sana. holding sana's hand. and the hands of eight other girls she'd never hesitate to call family.

 

"it's nothing important." she reaches for sana's hand, like she always does -

 

sana moves her hand away. momo sighs. there was no other way out.  "he confessed. it's nothing, because i don't even know his name. do you?" 

 

"no, but he looks cute." sana is still looking at her phone. "maybe you should say yes. you'd make a great couple." 

 

momo rolls her eyes. "then why don't you date him instead?" 

 

the air-con whirs loudly, in the palpable silence - sana finally, finally looks at her. six years together meant that they knew each other like the back of their own hands, knowing how each other worked - so momo doesn't expect the blazing molten in the other girl's eyes. it's something new, and momo hates it. hates how she can't seem to read sana. 

 

"maybe i should."

 

sana is a hypocrite. her words have never sounded more detached, but her eyes are alight with something else entirely. it's too much - a whole other cipher momo's not sure she can crack, because momo's tired. the ball of  _thing_  buried under her rib cage threatens to explode. it's taken up most of her energy these days; the countless sleepless nights, days, where all she could do was think and think and  _think,_  and she's exhausted.

 

"then date him." momo stands. grabs her bottle. "i'm going to get food."

 

she doesn't return. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

they don't talk. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

momo thinks she's subtle, with the whole avoiding thing. well, as much as you can avoid someone who lives in the same dorm. no one has said anything, and momo is content to live the rest of her life like this, if she can forget about the mess inside her rib cage that threatens to swallow her whole. 

 

but jeongyeon's been looking at her weirdly for the past ten minutes, and momo just wants to eat her yogurt. in peace. she accidentally catches the other girl's eye - and concedes defeat. 

 

"sana said she went on a date yesterday," jeongyeon starts. "know anything about it?"

 

the yogurt cup is too small to hide behind. momo swallows, before putting on her best clueless face, and shakes her head.

 

"some actor, i think. she didn't really say much." the other girl continues. then smiles. "she looks happy, momo."

 

oh.

 

"yeah?" momo smiles. it's the one she gives the cameras. "then that's good, i guess. i'm happy for her." then returns to eating her yogurt, only to have it smacked out of her hands by jeongyeon.

 

"what the hell?" she yells. the rest of her words die on the tip of her tongue, because jeongyeon has cornered her against the kitchen counter, with her serious face on. 

 

"get your shit together, momo. you're going to lose her." 

 

and then momo laughs. like, from her belly. because she knows all about jeongyeon's incessant need to do something to help people, to repair things, and understands. because it's cute. that jeongyeon thinks she can be saved. that they can be saved.

 

"you can't lose what you never had, jeongyeon." it's the truth again, on a sliver platter. the aftertaste of the yogurt is sour. 

 

"just talk to her, damn it."

 

the aftertaste of the yogurt turns bitter. it pricks at momo's temper. she's thankful for jeongyeon: her optimism is off-the-charts. the whole positive thinking grand scam. but things, like the black hole in her chest - momo doesn't expect anyone to understand. (even she doesn't).

 

so she only smiles. again. picks up her empty yogurt cup, and leaves.

 

momo finds comfort in the fact that there are eight other girls ready to catch her when she falls. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

hana sends her sake, like the good sister she is. it comes with a card. something about not wanting her to forget her roots. momo wonders where she gets her humour from. alcohol is a good coping mechanism, and she finds herself going through the bottles pretty quickly. or maybe, someone's leeching off her stash. 

 

she's nowhere near surprised when she sees the bottle in sana's hand. they lock eyes - momo is ready to turn the other direction, but sana smiles at her and really, that's all it takes to change her mind. they're the only ones without practice today, and momo hates herself for how she'd forgetten to sign up for additional practices. just to avoid this.

 

sana is tipsy. gestures at the empty space beside her on the couch, and momo's feet are on autopilot. clearly the avoidance was just a ruse, because she finds herself back at square one - falling, and falling, right into sana's waiting arms. sana hands her the bottle, and momo takes a huge gulp. there is no way she's doing this sober.

 

"i'm sorry," sana says. "for avoiding you." her words are slurred and momo makes sure to keep the bottle away. the ice breaks. she ends up apologising, too, because whatever happens - they're always going to be friends first. best friends, before anything else. and if that's what sana wants, then that's what momo wants. 

 

her shoulders feel lighter. maybe it's the sake. but then the words are out of her mouth before she can think, and fuck. maybe she should swear off alcohol.

 

"how's your boyfriend?" 

 

something flashes across sana's eyes. it's not pleasant. momo has another apology on hand, because she always, always ruins things, but then sana's lips curve up the slightest bit. 

 

"he's a great kisser." tipsy sana is aggressive. it's a low blow. they both know it. but sana looks so cocky and proud and it makes momo balls her hands into fists. the  _thing_ inside her chest finally explodes. fills her veins with raging jealousy, and anger that she knows has no place being around, because they're  _just friends_ _. best friends._

"really?" momo's heart burns. with what, she isn't sure. all she knows is that she wants to kiss the stupid smirk off sana's face. "better than me?" 

 

the possessiveness is uncalled for. but she gives in either way, because her pride is at stake here, and there was no way she was going to be compared to some stupid boy. she sets the bottle down on the table. 

 

"we'll see." sana only laughs, a low chuckle, and all it does is to spur momo on. it's a challenge. momo bites the bait. 

 

"we'll see," momo echoes. leans in. gives in to the pull sana's always had on her. her eyes are liquid, and so, so glazed over it's electrifying. they meet in-between.

 

sana tastes like sake. something sweeter. it's fire and it's ice, and momo takes pleasure in how sana breaks the kiss to moan her name in less than five seconds. not that she was counting. sana is giving, and sana is hers for the taking. and momo takes. her hand traces a familiar path under sana's shirt, stopping right under her bra, and sana  _shivers_. 

 

"did he do this?" she thumbs over a nipple through her bra, and sana gasps. arches her chest right into momo's hand, and momo gloats in victory. sucks on the skin right above her pulse point, because it's where she can feel sana's pulse jump in anticipation. it's heady. 

 

"what about this?" momo edges. pushes her thigh right between sana's legs. they open voluntarily, and sana moans. it sets the heat in her own belly on fire, because only she can make sana like this. a pliant, open-mouthed mess that's only for her. her.

 

"i bet he can't make you come faster than i do," momo says. gives no warning as she slides her fingers into sana. thank god they're alone, because sana screams. momo's possessiveness rears its ugly head, and feeds. there is no room for rational thinking. there is only sana, and it isn't long before she starts grinding down into momo's fingers.

 

so momo pulls out her fingers. licks them clean. 

 

"please, momo - " sana whines, loud and needy. "please - " she catches momo's wrist, but it's yanked away before anything could happen.

 

"answer me." momo doesn't know what she's doing. "can he?" she barks. it's her goddamn ego that needs to be verified, before it suffocates her with its insecurity.

 

"n-no," sana shakes her head. "only you." it's out. the words momo always wanted to hear from the other girl, in a different context. this time, there is sincerity, there is truth - but how much? 

 

"only you." the words are repeated. softer. sana makes sure to look directly into momo's eyes. there is no more running away.

 

"it's always been you, momo." it's said in japanese, and momo thinks she's living out her greatest fantasy. she's stunned into silence.

 

the air changes. sana sits up. momo is unbelieving. this is sana's trump card. a total game changer. the vulnerability makes her hands shake, and this isn't anything, anything she'd expected, when sana cradles her jaw and looks at her with a million stars in her eyes.

 

"really?" momo breathes. she hates how gullible she is. but when sana takes her hands in hers and nods, momo thinks she doesn't care. the anger in her veins dissipates. her chest feels ten times lighter, and she smiles. because for the first time ever, she has her own happiness in the palm of her hand.  

 

sana returns the smile. it's a different one this time, something momo likes to think is only for her. so when sana's fingers curl over the nape of her neck, momo pushes forward, because she'll never get enough of this. they kiss, again. someone cries. it's salty. momo's heart expands out of her chest because all is good in the world.

 

life is short. life is unexpected. six years of unsolicited pain and suffering. they're so stupid. jeongyeon was right. sana whispers apologies into her skin. something about fear. touches her slow, and gentle, and makes momo forget about the sadness. kisses the tears away, because there is nothing stopping them now. this is real. 

 

this is them.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

they wake up to mina's screaming. something about living with minors, and basic etiquette. momo smacks sana's bare ass in response. 

 

dinner is a quiet affair. sana keeps trying to drag her feet up momo's leg, under the table. momo has lost count of the number of times she's dropped her food. mina rolls her eyes. counts to three, before jihyo slams her chopsticks down on the table and kicks them out. 

 

"i broke up with him," sana mumbles into her neck, fingers already knucle-deep in momo. "it wasn't anything serious, anyway." she continues. punctuates with each thrust in. momo only digs her fingers into sana's hips as she tries to process the information. 

 

oh.

 

"so it's just you now?" she asks, between pants. her hips push into sana's fingers, and momo bites back a moan because jihyo is still angry. but sana isn't sana if she doesn't try her best to make momo  _loud._

 

"no," sana purrs into her ear. "it's us." bends to take a nipple in her mouth, and there isn't anything momo can do but fist the sheets a little harder, and bite down on her own lips. "it's you, and me, remember?" 

 

_yes._ the heat explodes in her belly and she surrenders herself to sana's nimble fingers. finds herself right at home, in the arms of one minatozaki sana.

 

right where she belongs. 

**Author's Note:**

> also @xylomyloo on twitter if u wanna say hi and scream about the 9th of april


End file.
